The Gaz Files
by La-Abeja
Summary: Gaz, an antisocial teenager with multiple problems attends the local hiskool, there she is feared by all, until she is sent to counseling for her ‘behavior’. Now who is this counselor? Well, his name is Mr. Dwicky… AU


The Gaz Files

A Collaboration between Missmune and La-Abeja

Invader ZIM and all corresponding characters copyright Viacom, Nick, and JCV

A/N:

**Mune**: ZOMG! Collab'd! Yeah, this is a collaboration between myself, MissMune, and that crazy La-Abeja, AKA Reem. This was originally an RP and what-not. Yeep…between Dwicky and Gaz. Strange combo, no? We think so, too. However, I love the idea of Gaz in therapy.

**La-Abeja/Reem**: Whoa I'm crazy! Anyway, this collab is crazy too, in a _good_ way. A very good way. So, as mentioned above by that crazeh Mune, this was originally an RP, that we think is just so goodness, that it gets to become a fic (extra work, pffft).

MissMune Gaz  
La-Abeja Mr. Dwicky

"And so, class," the voice of a young teacher pierced the otherwise silent room, "By the unnamed mother's actions, we see that-"

The entire classroom was clinging onto this teacher's every word. Not because she was particularly interesting, no. It was because she _severely_ punished anyone who was caught doing anything but paying attention. _Anyone_.

Apparently, however, a single student didn't think the term "anyone" applied to her. She thought she was special, better than anyone else. She thought she had the right to play video games while she listened to music. She didn't think she had to listen to the teacher. Why should she? She never had before.

No one dared question the solitary figure in the back of the room, hunched over in her chair, staring at the glowing, beeping device before her. No one had dared while she was in elementary skool, and no one dared now, now that she was in hi skool. Indeed, she looked much more threatening now than she had when she was just a kid.

Now that she was a blossoming young woman of seventeen, she looked far from docile (like she ever _had_). Her hair had grown far longer than it had been when she was young, yet it had not lost its shape in the least. The only truly noticeable difference was that the front part of her bangs had grown extremely long, into a forward scythe shape. Someone had jokingly said that she had inherited the family scythe; she had punched them in the face.

No one compared _her_ to her moronic family. She was better than them.

This sentiment was echoed in the saying on her shirt: "You sucks." Despite the terrible grammar, its point was made, emphasized by the ripped sleeves. It looked almost like she had ripped them off in a furious rampage. This, by no means, meant that her arms were bare, however.

Slightly baggy dark purple gloves went elbow length, where they met leather straps, keeping them from sliding down her arms. Straps seemed to be a major theme throughout this girl's attire, in fact. She had a black leather strap around her neck, as well. Only this one had a large white skull on it, leering forward menacingly.

Another, smaller, skull was positioned under this girl's lip. It appeared that she had spared the time and money to get her lip pierced, as well as her nose, and her ears, which were pierced multiple times. All of these had a skull somewhere, though the ears were peppered with other beads, some of which contained lewd sayings.

No one said anything about these, however. Still, no one dared.

No one was fool enough to say anything about the chains that criss-crossed her pants, either. The skool had a policy that disallowed them; they were considered a weapon. Maybe that was the reason no one said anything about them to her. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of those weapons. Or those spiky heeled boots.

Students feared those boots of hers. Countless spikes stuck out from them, from the front, to the back, from side to side – everywhere. They were everywhere. A clean kick from those would be more than painful. It would be excruciating.

This is why no one ever said anything to the squinty-eyed girl in the back of the room. Why all the teachers allowed her to play her games, to listen to her music, to do what she wanted. They were all afraid of her.

She liked it that way.

Which is why it came as such a shock to everyone, when the teacher leading the class in a lecture suddenly stopped, walking smoothly and without fear towards the girl in the back of the room. The scary girl. The scary girl who didn't look up at the teacher.

Not until the teacher ripped the head phones off of her ears, anyway. That was her cue to blink in shock, and to glare upwards, at the person who would _dare_ defy her.

"Gaz," the teacher hissed, shooting the girl a glare that matched the girl's own, "You've been here for _three_ days, and you've done absolutely nothing to contribute to this classroom." The teacher paused, waiting for the girl, Gaz, to say something. She didn't, but, instead, continued to glare at the teacher, while simultaneously playing her game.

The teacher seemed to notice the game, and pulled that, too, from Gaz's grasp. Now _that_ make Gaz growl, growl _furiously_ as the rest of the classroom stared on in shock. Was this teacher _insane_? "All you've done is stare at this beeping idiot machine and listen to music _blaringly_ loud. You haven't learned a _damn_ thing in my classroom."

Gaz grit her teeth, and made to reclaim her gameslave. The teacher pulled back, and shot the girl an icy cold look. "No, no you're not getting _this_ back, Gaz. Not until you tell me something that I've taught in the past three days."

Silence. Piercing, hate-filled, silence.

"_Nothing_?" the teacher said, slapping a hand onto Gaz's desk. "Not _one_ thing?" Gaz responded only by clenching her fists and shaking in unbridled fury. The rest of the class was now scooting away from the teacher and Gaz.

"I had heard you were a good student, Gaz. Especially considering how brilliantly your brother did in this class, and he was supposedly _insane_. However, _you_ seem to just-" the teachers reprimand was suddenly interrupted as Gaz grabbed her by the collar, and held her hand back threateningly.

"Give it _back_," she hissed.

The teacher's eyes narrowed. There was not one trace of fear in her eyes as she effortlessly pulled away from Gaz, and brushed off her tweed suit. "_No_, you're not getting it back, Gaz."

Another growl from Gaz, as she moved toward the teacher yet again. The teacher dodged easily. "In _fact_, you're not coming back to this class ever _again_. You have some far more serious problems than this English class can address."

At the point, Gaz stopped, and stared at the teacher, almost curiously.

"I'm going to request that you see a counselor," the teacher continued, turning her back on Gaz and heading over to her computer desk. "Every day, during this hour."

Effortlessly, the teacher's hands started making strokes against the keyboard. "You need it more than any other student I've _ever_ taught." She continued to type, adding, "Besides, I can't deal with horrid students like you."

Clenching her fists, Gaz started to storm up to the teacher, yet again. What she was going to do, she didn't know, but _nobody_ talked to her like this.

"Well?" the teacher suddenly said, making Gaz pause, "What are you still doing her? Collect your things and head down to the counselors. I don't want to see in you in my classroom ever again." With that, the teacher pointed towards the door, "Leave _now_."

"Not until you give me my _stuff_ back," Gaz said, persistently, holding out a hand with which to accept her things.

The teacher rubbed her temples in frustration, before shaking her head, no. "You can collect them at the office at the end of the day," she said, trying to remain calm, "Now, go."

Shaking furiously, Gaz complied, grabbing the remainder of the stuff off of her desk, before kicking it over and storming out of the door. The only reason she hadn't ripped that teacher's head off was because she was under the guarantee that she would get her stuff back later.

And this _counselor_, she thought, a disgusted look evident on her face as she skulked down the hallway. Who were _they_? She didn't need counseling! Her _brother_ needed counseling. He was the insane one, not her. She wasn't insane.

She just wanted to be left _alone_, that was all.

With that thought prominent in her mind, the girl barged into the counseling office, not caring if there was another student in there or not. This was _her_ time, now.

The counselors office was quaint and relaxed, a secretary sat in the middle of the greasy walled room, typing away and sipping coffee. There appeared to be no other students in the office, and the different counselor's doors were wide open, some peering out with bored expressions, others leaning against office doors, chatting to their neighbors. A few doors were shut, counselors pretending to work.

In fact, the office was so relaxed it took a few moments to notice the new addition to the office décor.

Gaz.

The secretary had heard her come in; however, she didn't look up. Not yet. "A student? Sit down we'll get you a counse-" _Now_ she noticed.

Her face actually _paled_. She remained silent as her eyes went from the boots, to the belts, to the choker, to the earrings, before finally reaching the eyes. They went back to the earrings immediately.

A counselor who had been picking up his daily mail let it hang in his hands. After a moment to pull himself back together he leaned down, "Give her to the _new_ guy…"

She jerked and nodded, "Dwi-_Dwicky_!"

From on of the closed offices and startled sound was heard, and the fluttering sound of something light falling. "Yeah?" A male's voice called.

"S-_Student_!"

"Oh! Send them in!" He sounded almost eager…

Poor sap.

The new addition scowled as she got a good look around. It wasn't a big shocker to see that this room was quite as greasy and disgusting as the rest of the school, but it still disgusted her. Her face continued to be contorted into a displeasing expression until she finally noticed the receptionist, staring at her, pale faced and afraid.

Afraid of _her_ like she should be. Gaz allowed herself a devious grin at this bit of information. She had instilled fear into the hearts of all of the counselors, even. She really did do her job nicely.

They even pushed her off onto the new guy. Dwicky, that was his name. Hah! Was _this_ guy in for it. She would show him that she needed no therapy. She would show him the _hard_ way.

Taking her time to mosey across the room, she carefully sneered at each of the counselors in turn, saving the longest and most severe for the receptionist. Such a twitchy woman, she was.

Sparing one last glance at the room, Gaz pulled open the door to her new counselor's office. She didn't bother saying hello as she stormed inward.

Mr. Dwicky's office was new, clearer than others; however, already it was a mess. Wallpaper pealed off the walls, and grease dripped down in disgusting patterns. Grease and watermarks were present at the bottom of the walls as well, and continued on to the edges of Mr. Dwicky's desk.

The desk he was currently leaning over, large hands pulling a large pile of playing cards into a messy pile, apparently he had been building a house of cards, before he was interrupted…

Hearing the door open he looked up, a smile on his face before he even saw his student, "Hey there! I'm Mr. Dwicky the new skool…" He blinked, and eyed the student up and down. Boots, belts, earrings, nose rings, lip rings… her eyes… Dwicky recovered, he'd seen worse in college. Maybe. "-Counselor!"

He pulled himself back and abandoned the cards, gesturing towards a seat for Gaz. His desk was littered with cards, papers and books. 'Skool Counseling for Morons' shown starkly off the desk in orange… Mr. Dwicky laced his fingers; he was a young man, just out of collage.

His hair was messy, blue eyes large, a small goatee adorning his chin. A small gold ear piercing was noticeable on his ear.

"So, why are you down here today…" He didn't know the student's name.

Snorting at the office, and it's greasy, water-stained interior, Gaz stared at the 'new skool counselor' for a moment. She saw absolutely nothing special about him. He just looked like a guy, a guy just out of college, in fact. Her gaze did not break, even as she moved across the office, towards the chair directly adjacent to Mr. Dwicky. Roughly, she flopped down into it, causing it to lean back slightly, and to make a loud squeaking noise, as though it were about to break. The teen kept it this way, propping it up by pushing one of her large, spiky boots against the counselor's desk.

Finally, her squinted eyes broke contact with Dwicky, as they skimmed the rest of the office. She couldn't help but develop a malicious grin as they fell upon 'Skool Counseling for Morons' atop of Dwicky's desk. "I see you're a real _professional_, Dwicky," she said sarcastically. She didn't respond to his question. She shouldn't have been down here in the first place. There was no reason.

Mr. Dwicky twiddled his thumbs, watching Gaz curiously, "Oh yes," he didn't seem bothered at the lack of a 'Mr.' "Been to college, psychology, all that…" He just now noticed she was looking at the orange 'For Morons' book and realized what she had meant.

"Oh that! Just erm- some side reading! Yup, keeping up in the study." He picked up the book and tossed it in the corner of his room before looking back at Gaz, unfazed, a smile upon his lips.

She hadn't answered his question yet.

He tried another route.

"So, I'm Mr. Dwicky," he nodded warmly, "and you are?"

"Gaz," Gaz said, without emotion as she stared at the orange 'Morons' book, now carelessly tossed into the greasy corner of the room. That was all she said. She didn't add a 'pleased to meet you', or offer a hand to shake, or even give her last name.

She was just _Gaz_. That was all Mr. Dwicky needed to know about her.

"Well it's a _pleasure_ to meet you Gaz." Mr. Dwicky said with a broad smile and finally extended _his_ hand. "So Gaz, tell me, which class have you come from?" He had a feeling this student wasn't here to ask about her schedule, as many had been doing since the start of semester.

A scowl appeared on Gaz's face as she looked at Mr. Dwicky's extended hand. She did not take it. And the counselor's next question only worsened her scowl, so that her entire face was contorted with rage.

"Ms. Rio's," Gaz spat. She paused, and her features darkened even more than they already were, if that was possible, "Oh, she will pay," she hissed.

After a moment, with his outstretched hand not taken, Dwicky retreated and twiddled his thumbs looking towards Gaz. He was still smiling, though behind it he was slightly less eager with his newest job. "Really now? Ms. Rio the English teacher?"

He paused for a moment, "So Gaz," He used her name as though they were on friendly terms, "What will she 'pay' for?" Your lunch? He fought down the smile… He wasn't supposed to rile 'them'.

"Yes, _her_," Gaz snarled, memory of the incident still fresh in her mind. Of Ms. Rio's fearless, mocking face. Oh, how she _loathed_ that woman. She _would _pay.

Questioning how she would, in fact, pay, was not something Gaz had been expecting, however. One of her squinted eyes opened to glare at Dwicky to its full extent. Her amber eyes glittering spectacularly with hatred. "For _humiliating_ me," she growled.

Mr. Dwicky listened, and now looked slightly curious, "Well now, let's talk about that Gaz." One of his arms extended to pick up his mug of coffee, he took a sip and curiously, there was an 'OBEY' sticker stuck to the bottom, he set the mug back down. "Yes, _how_ do you feel she 'humiliated' you? What happened exactly?"

Growling, Gaz leaned farther back into her chair. She was still looking forward at Dwicky, at his casual demeanor and his stupid 'OBEY' coffee cup. She already didn't like him. It was a bad idea to come here in the first place; she could have just skipped this hour, even for the rest of semester. She could be playing video games right now instead of playing fifty questions with this stupid _counselor_.

She was silent for a moment. He had planned it this way. Any way that she said it, it would look bad on her behalf. Gritting her teeth, she finally mumbled, "I just wanted to be left alone."

Mr. Dwicky allowed a pause before diving in, she didn't answer his question, but it was something at least. "Why Gaz?" There could be countless reasons, peer reasons, familial reasons… mental reasons. They were countless…

"Everyone wants to be left alone at times, but you need to focus on your future, and on your teacher's lessons. That's what they get paid for, they do care." He paused. "Some of them." That probably wasn't the best thing to say…

However, Dwicky had his opinions on the teachers at this hi-skool. Just the other day in the teacher's lounge he heard a health teacher comment that she in fact, _never_ wanted to be a teacher, and it was well known the swim teacher was deathly afraid of the water.

Gaz almost blinked, but kept her composure. It was a strange, being asked that question. She couldn't ever remember being asked that. Well, she could, but not in the tone that Mr. Dwicky was using. Usually, it was some poor sap who she had beaten up that asked that, "_Why_, Gaz?"

Why, indeed?

"People's voices fill me with a _terrible_ rage," she said, after a long pause, "Especially my stupid brother's."

Family… terrible rage… "Ah you have a brother? I never had siblings, I always wanted one. Tell me about him." Dwicky laced his fingers again, watching her curiously, but with a calm smile.

At Dwicky's statement, Gaz couldn't help but snort in dark amusement. "He's _insane_," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "And he _never_ shuts up," she added, "About aliens. He always used to go on and on about aliens for _hours_." She paused, developing a scowl, "Now he's in _kollege_, though. I _guess_ that's a good thing."

Dwicky was, needless to say, quite interested. "Aliens now? I used to believe in aliens." He nodded wisely, "But all the childhood wonder was _ripped _from my being the day my leg got stuck in an escalator and aliens _didn't _come rescue me."

He took another sip of coffee and before Gaz could respond said, "I also never found any proof, so I did the next best thing- I work with public skool children. And they can be pretty scary too."

He didn't mention a thing about Gaz being scary; no he seemed rather at ease.

"Pfft," Gaz said, at the escalator comment, "_Whiner_." At this point, she would have continued playing her gameslave, and actually attempted to do so, before she realized that she didn't _have _it. A growl emitted from the recesses of her throat.

_I guess I'll keep **talking** to him, then._ She thought, looking as though she might kill someone.

"This alien wouldn't come to save you, anyway," she continued, as though she hadn't just called her counselor a whiner. "He tries to destroy the world, but he's too stupid to get anything _done_." Pause, "And my _brother's_ too stupid to realize that."

Dwicky was staring over her shoulder, in thought, "Yes… Quite traumatic indeed. " He was so in thought at the _horrible_ memory of _grinding_ escalator upon leg, he didn't hear another thing she said. Blinking he looked back at her, he wasn't supposed to ignore his patients. The students… whatever they were.

So, family.

"So yes, you're brother. Tell me about the rest of your family Gaz. Mother, father?"

Gaz frowned, evidently at the fact that Dwicky seemed to have completely missed what she just said. Stupid counselor. He was really starting to bug her. Especially with the next question he asked. She gritted her teeth and furrowed her brows; she didn't like talking about her mother. "Mom's _dead_," Gaz snapped, "And Dad's Professor Membrane." Apparently, she didn't feel she needed to elaborate further with that second one.

Mr. Dwicky paused, he was treading dangerous ground. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss, Gaz." He'd leave that alone for now. It was just the first visit. "Professor Membrane? _The_ Professor Membrane? Well, he's had a lot of success," more than most of us… "You must be very proud of your father."

"Oh yeah, _really_ proud," Gaz said, sarcastically. Honestly, that's all she ever heard when someone asked about Membrane. 'What a great scientist he is. Aren't you _proud_ of him?'

He was a great scientist, she couldn't deny that. A great father, on the other hand, not so much.

Who could miss the sarcasm? Dwicky caught it easily, "Yes… he is a great scientist. I imagine that makes him very busy with his work?"

There was a long pause, as Gaz watched her boot slowly crawl its way down Mr. Dwicky's desk, finally landing with a loud thump on the ground, as the chair squeaked forward. "He's really busy," she said, finally, not looking up at Dwicky, anymore.

Mr. Dwicky heard the thump. Mr. Dwicky also hoped the pupil's boots didn't mutilate his desk, it was bad enough.

"Understandable." He said calmly, "And your brother, older I assume, is in kollege? I guess he wouldn't be home much either. So do you stay home alone, or is someone there with you?"

"I'm alone," Gaz said, regaining the dark quality to her voice, and a more relaxed posture, as she looked back up at Dwicky. She left it at that. She was already getting irritated with this, even more so than she had a few moments ago. Not only had Dwicky not _realized_ that she had already said that her brother was in kollege, but he was just so very _counselor_. She didn't want to have to tell him that she was supposed to come back every day. Maybe she could get out of it without him finding out.

"I see…" It really wasn't that odd for someone of Gaz's age to be home alone. She was almost a woman, something Dwicky noticed immediately; however, homes could get rather lonely with no one in there to break the silence.

"Alone then. What about your peers? Get together with any friends after school Gaz?" He asked with honest curiosity.

Gaz let out a soft snort as the mere mention of 'friends'. "I don't have any," she said, shrugging. She had never cared about friends or even her peer group in general. They were always so stupid and immature, completely ignorant of the things around them.

While it may have never looked like Gaz listened, she did. She knew what was going on all the time. She was connected with reality, probably more so than even her brother, though, she admitted, he did know more than most people his age.

"No friends?" Dwicky continued to stare towards Gaz, and as a result of not being able to read minds asked, "Why not Gaz?" Not spooky enough for you?

"People annoy me," Gaz said, her tone of voice darkening more than usual. She paused only a moment before adding, in almost a hiss, "Like _you_." Oh, how badly did she want this to be _over_. Stupid _Dwicky_.

Dwicky didn't miss a beat, he took the hiss in stride while continuing to smile calmly, "Well, you know." He then moved on, "So they- we're annoying? How exactly Gaz? Haven't found another with your hobbies, music interests, and so on?"

Gaz growled in frustration, glaring at Dwicky through squinted eyes. "You just keep _talking_," she grunted, coming dangerously close to losing what little self-control she had.

What was the world coming to? Did no one know how to answer questions? Though Dwicky supposed this was absolutely normal when it came to kids who spoke to counselors because of their _behavior_. Why couldn't he get one of those 4.0 students who came to whine about their schedules?

"Well, we tend to do that." Dwicky managed to keep his small smile on, "So let's see. What _are_ your hobbies Gaz? What _do_ you like to do?"

Shaking slightly out of fury, Gaz's eye twitched visibly. As Dwicky talked, her teeth slowly became bare. This guy just _wouldn't_ shut _up_. She would _make_ him if he didn't stop soon.

"Video games!" Gaz managed to snarl.

Dwicky sensed the tension, "What kinds?" He asked innocently, though also with some curiosity. Hopefully she'd calm down, or the period would end… Sure, Dwicky knew about all sorts of breathing exorcises to recommend, however, he imagined the mere mention would cause an explosion of sorts.

It didn't work well to recommend calming down exorcises when the patient- er pupil looked about ready to rip you from limb to limb.

"Vam-Pire Piiigy Hunter," Gaz strained to get the words out through gritted teeth, and her raw rage. She had taken to digging her sharp nails into the bottom of the chair she was currently sitting in, to prevent her from grabbing the counselor by the throat.

"How nice!" Dwicky said with a nod, "Yes I hear it did pretty well on-" The stark sound of the skool bell sounded, causing Dwicky to shut his mouth. Finally.

"Well Gaz, I suppose that's that. You'll be on to your next class now?" He stood up from his seat and walked around his desk, with a noticeable limp, no doubt from the escalator 'incident', he opened the door for Gaz, "Pleasure meeting you."

Eye twitching, Gaz stood up from the seat stiffly. Swiftly, she stomped her way over to the door, snarling as Dwicky said it was a pleasure meeting her. She spared one last _glare_ at the counselor before continuing to skulk her way across the counseling office.

She was glad _that_ was over. At least she would never have to see that moron again.

With a shrug Dwicky watched Gaz leave silently, at which action the counselors' office again looked stricken. Turning towards the mailbox nailed next to his door Dwicky began to root through it, perhaps now he could get back to that card castle...

Well, this was his thought before he came across the note. For a few moments he was silent before a wide smile directed itself at Gaz's retreating back

"Ah Gaz, I suppose we'll be seeing more of each other. According to Ms. Rio you'll be in my office for the rest of semester…"


End file.
